


father, forgive me (these are all my confessions)

by hugeboymino



Series: i'm going to make supreme hope relevant [3]
Category: Daenamhyup | DNH, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, Angst and Humor, Drug Use, M/M, Mild Smut, Past Abuse, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:50:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3442682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hugeboymino/pseuds/hugeboymino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>heaven, for the lack of a better word, looks magical. some might assume that it consists of nothing but pearly white, soft clouds and angels floating around playing the harp, and to a certain extent, that is true. angels do enjoy playing the harp, as well as the flute, but they don’t float on clouds. in reality, heaven is a complex of countless sleek, white buildings, a city that reaches into infinity and knows no boundaries, and much like any other metropolis, it’s a busy place.</p><p>in this heaven, jung hoseok has a job. a job that he’s keen on executing flawlessly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	father, forgive me (these are all my confessions)

**Author's Note:**

> **prompt:** "In which Hoseok is Namjoon's guardian angel and Donghyuk is Yoongi's and they fight for a promotion which Seokjin promised them if one of them able to make sugamon together." (but this sort of took a turn of its own)
> 
>  **note/s:** as i was writing this, i've come to realize that the way heaven and angels and all that stuff is handled here may come off as offensive to the believers. for that, i apologize, but this is how heaven is interpreted in this fic.
> 
> anyway every time i write about primetime homies i end up writing like 10k words or more so yeah. PLEASE REQUEST MORE SUPREME HOPE/SUGAMON AUs BECAUSE I'M FEELING THEM A LOT. okay enjoy this shitty fic now.

heaven, for the lack of a better word, looks magical. some might assume that it consists of nothing but pearly white, soft clouds and angels floating around playing the harp, and to a certain extent, that is true. angels  _do_  enjoy playing the harp, as well as the flute, but they don’t float on clouds. in reality, heaven is a complex of countless sleek, white buildings, a city that reaches into infinity and knows no boundaries, and much like any other metropolis, it’s a busy place.

in this heaven, jung hoseok has a job. a job that he’s keen on executing flawlessly.

“hoseok,” seokjin reads from a white parchment, a goose feather dipped in black ink in his right hand, “what on your human?”

“kim namjoon, recently turned twenty-five,” hoseok recites automatically, crossing his hands behind his back and juggling on the balls of his feet, his wings stretching comfortably behind him. much like anything else in heaven, the outfit he’s wearing is completely alabaster white, starting from the turtleneck to the tips of his jordans, a recent pair he’s bought – well, technically, took, but he left the necessary money in the cash register! - from a human shoe store, “still unemployed, still useless as ever.”

this earns him a glare from seokjin, who diligently writes down something on the parchment. there’s a snort from somewhere behind hoseok and when he turns around, he’s met with his sworn arch-nemesis, if angels could ever have one. shin donghyuk stands behind him, laughing into his hand, and hoseok frowns, “something funny, donghyuk?”

“absolutely nothing,” he replies smoothly and moves to stand next to him, so that the feathers of their wings are almost touching. hoseok wishes to hiss, but it would come out as rude in front of their boss. seokjin greets donghyuk with a nod of acknowledgment, and fishes out another piece of parchment from a drawer in his desk.

“donghyuk,” seokjin starts, but donghyuk interjects before he’s even finished mouthing the last syllable, “min yoongi, twenty-six. recently came back from a business trip as his company’s representative and published a new fragrance under his name,” donghyuk shoots a taunting smirk in hoseok’s direction, “still successful, still the heir to his father’s company.”

while seokjin isn’t looking , too busy writing down the report, hoseok sticks out his tongue at donghyuk. it’s a childish gesture, but it’s worth the shocked look on donghyuk’s face, “alright,” seokjin says after a moment, once he’s used up all the ink on his feather, “i have a task for you two.”

“us two?” hoseok suggests between himself and donghyuk, who looks equally as taken aback, “you mean. me and  _him_?”

“yes,” seokjin grits out, patience slowly running low, “i mean  _you_ and _him_.”

“but we don’t work together,” donghyuk states and for the first time in the last two hundred years they’ve know each other, hoseok agrees with him, nodding fervently, “ever.”

“i never said you’ll have to work  _together_ ,” seokjin leans back in his seat, rubbing his temples in irritation, “dear lord forgive me but it’s not even noon and you two are already giving me a headache. alright, listen up,” he points towards the two parchments lying forgotten on the desk top, “i’ve gotten orders from the big man himself,” he gestures towards an imaginary sky, “that you need to bring your humans together.”

“ _what_ ,” they both gasp at the same time, then glare at each other like they’ve been burned. hoseok continues speaking while donghyuk stays silently seething, “’bring our humans together’? what does that mean?”

“obviously it means we need to hook them up, stupid,” donghyuk flicks the back of his head and this time, hoseok doesn’t hesitate to hiss at him, stance defensive. they’re forced to stop when seokjin suddenly rises from his chair, his large wings spread intimidatingly, with a shout of “ _enough_!”

a few seconds of silence pass before donghyuk clears his throat and hoseok returns back to his previous position, fixing the collar of his turtleneck and coughing awkwardly, “anyway, boss, you were saying,” even though seokjin’s body doesn’t physically age, the scowl he’s bearing makes him seem ten years older, “as  _i was saying_ , you need to bring your humans together, into a monogamous romantic relationship, in the next six months.”

“six months,” hoseok repeats, “six months is how long it takes for namjoon to take a  _shower_. and you really expect me to help him charm  _min yoongi_  into falling in love with him?”

donghyuk even seems offended, “yoongi would never like someone like _namjoon_ ,” he spits the name like its poison and hoseok clenches his fingers into tight fists, sneering at donghyuk, “watch your mouth,” he warns him and donghyuk seems like he has a good retort to that, but seokjin is groaning again, “i really don’t care how you do this, as long as you  _do it_. if you finish the job in six months or less, you’ll get a promotion,” now that piques both angels’ interest. their spat disperses into nothingness as they both take three steps forward and all but glue themselves to seokjin’s table, “you’ll get a halo and work directly under me,” seokjin continues, a bit uncomfortable by their proximity, “however, if either of you fails to bring them together in that period, or makes the situation worse in any way, they’ll lose their human.”

a slow dread builds up in hoseok’s stomach. namjoon may be the human equivalent of a cockroach, but he’s grown on him… like a rash of sorts. as much as he might not like it, hoseok’s linked to namjoon, and namjoon’s linked to him, whether the human is aware of it or not. losing him would mean hoseok’s life losing its purpose, and he would rather willingly give over his wings and rank as a guardian angel than let that happen.

“alright,” he hears donghyuk agree, also reluctant. hoseok knows that, once they leave this room, a war will begin, and he’s more than ready to face the challenges it’ll pose, “six months or less. got it.”

“remember,” seokjin reminds them as they near the exit, “only one of you can get the promotion, but both of you can lose your humans,” hoseok takes a deep breath as the weight of seokjin’s words nestles right next to his heart, and reaches for the door handle, swatting donghyuk’s hand away before it could get there first.

he needs to see namjoon. immediately.

 

 

namjoon lives in a shitty one bedroom apartment above a convenience store in ilsan and the only reason he gets to eat ramyun at least twice a day is because the store clerk, jeongguk, has the stupidest, most obvious crush on him. it's so disgustingly obvious that the fact that namjoon doesn’t notice it at all doesn’t surprise hoseok in the slightest. in his personal opinion, jeongguk is a much better match for namjoon than yoongi. they’re on the same wavelength and hoseok doesn’t have to pamper namjoon and turn him into a façade of a successful musician so he’d impress the younger. the reason why seokjin-boss thinks this entire thing is a good idea falls short on him.

hoseok knocks twice and waits almost a full minute for namjoon to open the door, sporting only a pair of dirty boxers and a toothbrush between his teeth, “oh good you remembered you own toothpaste,” hoseok praises him with only a hint of sarcasm in his tone and namjoon thoroughly enjoys the feeling of his eyes rolling backwards in their sockets, “good to see you too, hoseok.”

he sidesteps to let hoseok in and shuts the door carefully behind him so they wouldn’t fall out of their hinges. the place is a total mess and namjoon has clearly not cleaned up in a while, and hoseok can’t stop the sigh that escapes his lips. his fingers automatically rest at his nape to scratch there in annoyance. this is going to be _a lot_ of work.

“what brings you here on such a lovely friday?” namjoon asks after a few minutes of silence and when hoseok turns around to face him, he’s gotten rid of the toothbrush and actually put an undershirt to cover his skinny torso. namjoon doesn’t know that his best friend is also his guardian angel, both figuratively and literally, and hoseok’s made damn sure that it stays that way. however, with this sudden progress of events, he isn’t sure how he’s going to execute his plan while using his powers _and_ staying undercover.

hoseok’s never been the one to come unprepared though. he’s already run an entire background check on yoongi and knows exactly where the older man likes to drink his coffee before going to work, “i was thinking we go to a coffee shop this morning.”

namjoon pauses in his tracks – he’s been clearing a space on the couch from college books and old vinyl records, as well as a bunch of crumpled up pieces of paper with messily written lyrics, for hoseok to sit on – and asks carefully, “starbucks? isn’t that uh… a little expensive?”

“i’ll pay,” hoseok offers and namjoon’s refusal is immediate, “hoseok i can’t-”, but hoseok stops him with a raised palm, “ _i said_ , i’ll pay. you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

namjoon complains during their entire walk to the shop. autumn’s began it’s slow shift to winter and the bare tree branches are already covered in thin layers of frost, the path they’re taking slippery and frozen, and hoseok hates the fact that even after years of taking care of namjoon on earth he still isn’t used to the climate changes that occur every few months. he shuffles closer to namjoon even at the cost of his annoyed grumbling being closer to his ears just to keep warm.

“there it is!” he exclaims in victory once the starbucks sign pops into view. he grabs namjoon’s elbow and marches over there, checking the watch on his left wrist – a pretty handy human invention, if he might add – and sure enough, they’re right on time.

“okay well how about you go inside and order for us and i’ll wait out here” hoseok offers hurriedly and namjoon doesn’t even have the time to question the logic behind his words because in the next moment, he’s pushed inside and automatically fallen into the waiting line. when he turns around, hoseok is nowhere to be seen.

namjoon’s always been a bit suspicious of hoseok’s tendencies to disappear without an explanation, or how he knows when namjoon needs him most without namjoon ever having to contact him beforehand, but over time he’s learned not to question it. whatever reason there might be behind hoseok’s actions would surely only give him a bigger headache.

outside, hoseok’s successfully made himself invisible, the tips of his fingers already vibrating with his powers. his eyes are so set on namjoon’s hunched frame and yoongi’s smaller body only two people ahead that he doesn’t notice donghyuk until the latter is nearly breathing down his neck.

“having fun?” he questions and hoseok jumps _and_ squeaks unceremoniously, the energy that’s been building up escaping him and hitting the cemented ground with a loud _bang_. the passersby shift and turn at the sudden loud noise but they don’t see anything where hoseok and donghyuk are standing, just the mysterious smoke rising from the indent on the floor.

“donghyuk i’m literally going to kill you,” hoseok grinds out. it takes a lot of concentration to bring back the buildup in his fingers and he’s running low on time, seeing how yoongi’s already received his order and namjoon is too lost in the menu to even notice him passing by, “some of us are actually trying to _work_ here.”

“i’m working too,” he laughs and stretches his limbs, wings included, “i’m waiting for you to do everything and then take credit for it.”

“you are so evil, how are you even an angel?” hoseok asks, although he doesn’t expect an answer. donghyuk must’ve missed the annoyance in hoseok’s voice, or maybe he’s just determined to anger him today, because he opens his mouth to speak. hoseok smacks him in the face to shut him up, though, because yoongi is just leaving the coffee shop and _namjoon is right behind him_. unsurprisingly, he’s holding a pile of napkins in his hands.

hoseok sets his plan in motion. he makes himself visible for long enough for namjoon to notice him and wave in his direction, albeit a bit confused, and hoseok directs him to walk forwards, right where he’s going to bump into yoongi with a little boost from hoseok’s powers and make him spill coffee all over the floor and, if anyhow possible, on himself and namjoon too.

it happens just like that, because hoseok is a genius after all, and the next few seconds are a blur. he disappears again and hears donghyuk cackling behind him, complimenting him on a job well done. hoseok ignores him to carefully observe the scene unfolding before him. namjoon is apologizing profusely and cleaning yoongi’s shirt with the napkins – hoseok sees him mutter the words “good thing i took these napkins, right?” and facepalms at his incredible flirting skills – without looking up to see whose expensive suit he’s just ruined. when he does, though, the expression on his face is priceless. the apologetic smile dies down immediately and his arms go slack, dropping the tissues. the next words are mouthed slowly, “yoongi? _the_ min yoongi? oh my god,” and hoseok can sense namjoon going into full panic mode.

“hey, hey, relax,” yoongi’s attempts to calm him down prove futile. namjoon explodes into a flurry of unintelligible words and even more apologies and promises to make it up to him even though he’d have to starve for at least half a year to even begin to save up for the suit yoongi’s just gotten back from the dry-cleaners and he only stops the ranting after yoongi’s arm falls heavily on his shoulders. hoseok is so tense that even donghyuk has to take a step back in fear of the angel imploding everywhere, but the smirk never leaves his face.

“it’s all right,” yoongi continues a minute later, when namjoon’s breathing has semi-returned, “i’m not mad.”

“fat chance of that,” donghyuk snorts and hoseok’s entire body grows cold. min yoongi isn’t exactly known for his laid-back personality and high tolerance level. so why hasn’t he beaten namjoon to the ground yet? is he sweet-talking him into a false sense of security before he strikes? by this point, hoseok is fully prepared for fighting yoongi, even at the cost of donghyuk stopping him and plucking his wings out feather by feather.

“you’re not mad,” namjoon deadpans. both used and unused napkins fall out of his hands and onto the wet street. min yoongi’s coat and suit pants are completely and utterly ruined by hot coffee, coffee that he’s probably been dreaming about since he woke up this morning, spilled on him by some random kid, and he’s not mad? “bullshit.”

namjoon doesn’t even realize he’s uttered a curse word until yoongi starts laughing. it sounds surprisingly genuine and hoseok’s head immediately snaps to donghyuk, “what did you do?”

“you’re not the only one who’s been doing their homework, hobi,” donghyuk cackles and hoseok swears his – partner? colleague? sworn enemy? – is a devil in disguise. in front of them, yoongi is saying how he’s an avid fan of namjoon’s mixtapes and namjoon nearly topples over in shock because, holy shit, min yoongi has actually _sat down and listened to his music_ and, well. that’s just too much information to take in at once.

“you showed him namjoon’s mixtapes?” hoseok asks in disbelief. donghyuk stretches behind him, appearing to be bored. yoongi is complimenting namjoon’s lyrics and hoseok can feel his human dissolving from the inside.

“not just his mixtapes,” donghyuk explains, too self-satisfied for hoseok’s liking, “showed him pictures too. on that site humans use so religiously – tweeter, is it? he has like, eighty thousand tweeters of his pictures and music links. i was like, ‘hey you should check this guy out’, and yoongi checked him out,” he nods towards the pair, namjoon still flailing around like he’s about to burst into flames and yoongi looking at him with an amused expression, “he’s checking him out now, too.”

“what,” hoseok deadpans, “how- how did you find namjoon’s twitter?! how did you even _think_ of something like that?!” he’s far too impressed to be mad at donghyuk for outsmarting him, “that’s brilliant. i completely forgot all humans base their lives on the internet nowadays.”

“please, wipe the drool off your chin,” donghyuk reaches for hoseok’s face, pretending that he’s wiping away imaginary saliva off the side of hoseok’s cheek, “you can thank me later,” the tone in his voice is suggestive, completed with a wiggle of eyebrows, and hoseok is back to hating him again.

“i have a show this weekend,” he hears namjoon say and it piques his interest. he doesn’t know about that, “and uh, well it’s nothing special, i only have like, half an hour of stage time tops, but you could… come…?” he trails off, suddenly insecure. yoongi has yet to say a thing, the smile on his face still as prominent as ever, and even donghyuk begins to find it suspicious, “sorry. i’m probably being annoying.”

“no, no, oh gosh,” yoongi seems to snap out of it, wipes the dried stain on his suit to cover up the fact that he’s been staring for the past five minutes, “i’d love to come. just give me the address and i’ll see with my assistant that he clears my schedule.”

hoseok hears donghyuk groan next to him, rolling his eyes. namjoon might not be successful, or useful to the society, or anything that’s not along the lines of ‘lazy but incredibly talented klutz who just so happens to be unlucky’, but at least hoseok doesn’t have to spend days and nights at the office rearranging the paperwork yoongi forgot, or even better, didn’t want to sign in the first place, take care of his business meetings and remind him constantly of the appointments and deadlines he has to meet.  covering up yoongi’s numerous flings and escapades that would cost him his career were they ever to be found out is only a bonus on the checklist of tasks donghyuk is required to perform every day. feeling slightly – but only slightly – sympathetic, hoseok pats his partner’s shoulder in an attempt to soothe him. the angel’s posture is sagged and hoseok can sense the wheels in his brain turning, figuring out how to bail yoongi out from an important meeting on the company stocks he has that friday.

hoseok silently thanks the heavens that he could, before anything else, just be namjoon’s slightly supportive, mostly annoyed best friend. something warms him up on the inside, as if the heavens are replying back with an, “i got your back,” and hoseok can’t suppress a smile.

“well,” he announces after a moment in which namjoon and yoongi share phone numbers, “i’ll make my leave now. good luck!” he salutes donghyuk and makes himself visible again. namjoon notices him right away and sighs in relief, confusing yoongi, but it’s too late for the older to delete his number from namjoon’s phone, “i’ll see you friday, yeah?” namjoon waves and jogs towards hoseok, standing next to the still smoking hole on the floor where his powers so expertly landed, leaving yoongi to turn around and leave on his own.

“did you see that?” he shouts at hoseok, right into his face, and holds his shoulders in a worryingly tight grip, “min yoongi knows about me! he listened to my mixtapes!”

hoseok’s smile is something between awkward and uncomfortable, “that’s great!” he tries to shout back equally as enthusiastic, but it comes off as strained, mostly because of the pain namjoon’s fingers digging into his skin even through the coat he’s wearing inflicts. namjoon is too lost to notice, though, “you didn’t buy coffee like i told you to!” hoseok grills him further, and this time, namjoon has the decency to look sheepish.

“i got scared, okay! the woman behind the register – she had a tattoo and _hair on her chin_ ,” he sounds absolutely horrified, but hoseok has half a mind to feel sorry for him, “and there were so many titles i didn’t even know how to pronounce correctly, i just chickened out and grabbed a bunch of napkins. it was terrible! where the fuck were you?”

hoseok has long since grown used to namjoon’s colorful palette of curse words, but that doesn’t stop him from frowning at him every time he uses one, “language, namjoon. i was right here outside,” he points towards a traffic booth that’s just shy of namjoon’s line of vision, “i was looking for my magazine, but no such luck. i bought you cigarettes, though,” if hoseok truly hates anything, it’s lying, but like seokjin-boss has told him many times before, lies are sometimes necessary to get the job done. he _could_ tell namjoon about his real identity, he _could_ show him his wings – and risk namjoon never talking to him again, spreading his secret around, get himself into even more trouble that hoseok wouldn’t be able to fix. losing their human is a pain no angel ever wants to experience, so hoseok bites down on his tongue and pushes the bile rising up his throat back down as he pulls out a pre-prepared pack of cigarettes from his jeans pocket, “marlboro, right? that’s the only brand i know.”

“marlboro is great, thank you,” namjoon accepts it readily, apologizing for cursing as he opens the package and slips a stick between his lips. he lights the top of the cigarette and inhales deeply, “much better. is that mint? i already brushed my teeth today,” he gives hoseok a toothy grin, which earns him a punch on the shoulder, but hoseok isn’t actually mad, “let’s go, i’m starving.”

they spend the afternoon at namjoon’s place, since hoseok doesn’t have, and never will have a home on earth, eating beef flavored ramyun jeongguk has put away for them before his shift ended and watching weekly idol on namjoon’s cheap, old television. hoseok leaves before nightfall, after listening to namjoon’s overexcited yapping for nearly three hours straight, surging towards the heavens where seokjin is awaiting his report, allowing himself to feel only slightly hopeful.

 

hoseok has kissed people before. other angels, sometimes, back in his prime, back when he had been a reckless angel without wings, never even set eyes on planet earth or thought about settling down with a human. being a ‘guardian angel’ had been a strange, abstract subject to him at the time, thoughts of doing things that are dangling on the border of having him kicked out of heaven for good sending a rush of adrenaline across his entire being.

donghyuk had been like that before, too. it was what brought them together and set them apart at the same time, when the inevitable onslaught of responsibility clawed at their throats and they were assigned humans beyond their will. hoseok had gotten stuck with namjoon, a deadbeat, half a drug addict, half an aspiring rapper slash songwriter, and donghyuk had seemingly gotten the better end of the stick. min yoongi; everyone knew of min yoongi in the guardian angels institute, knew of his careless parents and abusive butlers and his anxiety that could only be toned down with pills, that _had_ to be toned down with pills if he was ever to become an heir to his father’s business.

nobody asked yoongi whether he wanted to become a CEO or not. nobody asked donghyuk if he wanted to take care of yoongi, either. in heaven, nobody ever asks anything, just points and orders and it’s a lot worse than people like to imagine. but at the end of the day, donghyuk has grown to love yoongi, just like hoseok has grown to love namjoon, and they finally understand now, what it’s like, to be _forced_ to take care of something so fragile as a human life, and _want_ to take care of it too, simultaneously.

hoseok doesn’t feel like he’s taking good care of namjoon at the moment.

he sees him when he closes his eyes – senses him, like he always can – performing on stage, spitting his raps into the microphone like it’s the only thing he wants to do for the rest of his life, and he does, in a way. dreaming about sold out concerts and platinum albums distracts him from the pressure of real life, in which he doesn’t have a high school diploma or a job or anything. in real life, he only has hoseok. most of the time, it’s not enough.

it’s hard to focus on the palpitations of namjoon’s heart when he spots yoongi in the crowd, masked in thick layers of eyeliner and a mask over his face, when donghyuk has him pressed into a cold wall just outside the club namjoon’s show is hosted in, in a hidden alley where they can’t be seen unless they’re searched for. donghyuk is peppering kisses over his neck and across his jawline, sinks his teeth deep into his lower lip that draws out a moan and hoseok really, really hates donghyuk. not as much as lying, but he’s up there somewhere. he hates the way donghyuk makes him feel when he’s not supposed to, and they have to _work_ right now, not make out next to a smelly dumpster and a rotten carcass of what used to be a cat.

“relax,” donghyuk breathes out against his lips, “he’s fine. yoongi is fine. i can feel him,” of course he can feel him, hoseok can feel namjoon too, just finishing with his show and walking down the stairs and he can feel yoongi’s presence next to him as well, when he intrudes namjoon’s personal space. he’s gotten namjoon to shower for this occasion earlier. he hopes tonight would be worth the effort, “they’re talking. yoongi is so aroused – it’s incredible,” he laughs, “actually, i’m not sure if it’s him or me at this point.”

“shut up,” hoseok mutters, pulling donghyuk in for another kiss. he understands what donghyuk means, though – namjoon’s arousal burns through him like a fire he can’t extinguish and it constantly amazes him just how _intense_ human emotions are. he wills himself into thinking that the addictive feeling of donghyuk’s lips against his is purely namjoon’s fault. 

donghyuk slides a leg between hoseok’s legs and it’s _bad_ – it doesn’t feel right, but hoseok can’t deny that he’s missed this, the excitement of doing something that’s technically forbidden. romance between angels is allowed, but not encouraged, especially while they’re on a task their and their humans’ lives depend on. but namjoon is safe; he’s talking animatedly to yoongi, about how nervous he’s been about tonight, about _yoongi watching him_ , until he falls silent suddenly. hoseok almost grows worried but donghyuk lets out the most delicious of moans right next to his ear and digs his fingers deeper in hoseok’s sides and he _gets it_.

“he’s such a little shit,” hoseok pinches donghyuk for the bad habit of cursing he’s picked up from yoongi, but it only causes donghyuk to grind his pelvis against hoseok’s at a better angle that has him hissing, “he’s been planning this since monday.”

“really?” it’s a relief, actually. maybe this won’t be that hard, after all, “this is easier than i thought it would be.”

“it seems so,” donghyuk’s touch shifts into something more gentle, more careful, “but he’s so _needy_ it’s driving me crazy,” they’re kissing again, and in moments like these hoseok wishes he could remember all the other angels he’s kissed, at least the outlines of their faces, but nothing ever comes up.

“hold up,” donghyuk stills suddenly. hoseok can feel it, too. they’re separating, rushed and hurried, and namjoon is bowing to someone and apologizing, “it appears they’ve been caught. shit.”

hoseok slaps him again, “language!” but he feels very much along the lines of what donghyuk’s said. namjoon is saying goodbye to yoongi now and he’s about to go search for hoseok any minute, “i have to go,” he scrambles out of donghyuk’s hold, lean fingers lingering on exposed skin longer than they’re supposed to, and enters the club through the back door, leaving donghyuk to stand alone in the dark.

namjoon finds him surprisingly easily and it reminds hoseok that the bond works both ways, even if the human isn’t aware of it, “hoseok. oh my god. you’ll never believe what happened,” hoseok’s skin is still too hot from where donghyuk’s touched him and he covers his neck with his palm to heal the beginnings of hickeys the other angel’s left there, “really? tell me everything.”

namjoon does. he doesn’t stop talking the entire cab ride back home, the topic of his monologue shifting from yoongi to his performance and back to yoongi again. when they finally reach namjoon’s apartment, hoseok is more tired than namjoon who hasn’t slept at all last night due to nervousness. he pushes namjoon inside and locks the door and tells him to get ready for bed while he makes them a quick dinner. only then does hunger fully kick namjoon in the stomach and he obeys hoseok’s request quickly, leaving his angel to turn the stove on with shaky hands.

namjoon asks hoseok to sleep over that night and hoseok obliges. he lets namjoon wrap his body around his smaller frame even though his feet are ice cold and covers them in ripped blankets. hoseok doesn’t sleep, but the steady rise and fall of namjoon’s chest next to his relaxes him anyways.

 

two months into their project and they’re going nowhere.

namjoon and yoongi’s impromptu make-out session hasn’t repeated since, but hoseok knows namjoon hasn’t stopped thinking about it either. he’s witnessed too many wet dreams with yoongi panting and pliant under namjoon’s skinny body, head thrown back in pleasure, to ever look at the human in the same way again.

donghyuk is going crazy, too. sometime along the way, the angels decided to combine their strengths in hooking their two humans up. the final battle for the halo could wait, since keeping their humans became a top priority, “he won’t stop talking about him,” he complains. they’re sitting on the edge of the rooftop of yoongi’s company building, legs dangling above the bustling of life beneath them. they’re invisible, and hoseok has taken this opportunity to stretch his sore wings. it’s been too long since he’s gotten the chance to fly, “he checks namjoon’s tweeter profile every day and gets all giddy when he reads his name. i’ve never seen him like this. it’s disgusting.”

“tell me about it,” hoseok rolls his eyes. the sunlight hits him in the eyes, but it doesn’t bother him in the slightest, “i’ve been trying to talk him into texting yoongi, but he chickens out every time. _what if he doesn’t like me anymore, hoseok? what if!_ ” he imitates namjoon’s voice, very badly at that, but at least it makes donghyuk break into a fit of uncharacteristic giggles.  

“i’ll get yoongi to text him first,” donghyuk promises. hoseok silently thanks him, looking down, past the tips of his shoes and towards the cars stuck in a traffic jam, “humans are so simple, yet so complicated, aren’t they?”

“they’re fascinating creatures. so oblivious to everything,” donghyuk agrees, but there’s something about his tone, the way he’s said it, that leaves hoseok wondering. he doesn’t comment on the matter, however, “always refusing to take the easy path in life.”

“amen to that,” hoseok nods. they sit in silence like that for what seems like hours, until hoseok announces that namjoon has woken up from his nap, “update me on anything that happens,” he says, but doesn’t wait for donghyuk’s confirmation. he leaves without looking back, because he just might change his mind, and that wouldn’t do. jung hoseok still has a job to finish.

no distractions allowed.

 

donghyuk does keep to his words though. namjoon all but propels out of his worn out couch and latches onto hoseok’s sides, shoving his cheap old phone into his face, “look! look!” he shrieks like an oversized puppy. hoseok takes the phone from his hands that wouldn’t stop shaking and reads the message out loud.

“hey.”

it’s such a plain message, simple three letters, but namjoon is vibrating with his entire being. his fingers are trembling when hoseok returns the phone to him, unimpressed.

“what should i do? should i text ‘ _hey_ ’ back?” he mumbles under his breath, words hoseok probably wouldn’t hear if he hadn’t been an angel, “yes. that’s exactly what you should do,” hoseok suppresses a smile at the horrified expression on namjoon’s face at that.

“but doesn’t that sound too disinterested?” he gnaws on his lower lip, “i don’t want to chase him away.”

“he sent you a _hey_. with a period,” hoseok sighs. he rests his open palm on the kitchen desktop, his other hand bent at his hips, “i sincerely doubt he cares about how your _hey_ back will sound.”

“you’re right,” and of course he is, hoseok is always right. namjoon types in the word into the chat box quickly, presses send before he can back out, and throws the locked phone on the counter immediately.

“now what?” he asks, terrified.

“now we wait for the second coming of christ,” hoseok replies sarcastically. inside, however, he shoots a quick apology to his employers, although every entity in heaven’s already gotten used to humans calling their names on a daily basis, “seriously, calm down.”

to be fair, namjoon does try to calm down. he sits on his couch and watches the tv with almost horrifying concentration, until the phone lying nearly forgotten on the counter vibrates once, then twice.

he’s sprung to his feet instantly, fingers punching in the passcode at an impressively fast pace.

> **18:55 yoongi:** hey  
>  **18:55 yoongi:** wow that was fast  
>  **18:55 yoongi:** sorry for not texting you earlier i was busy with work

namjoon’s eyes desperately search for hoseok’s help, “tell him that it’s all right,” hoseok instructs, moving to stand next to namjoon, “tell him about something you’ve done this week so you don’t seem too pathetic,” that proves to be a difficult task, since namjoon _hasn’t_ done anything important this week, or any week at all. namjoon sleeps for most of the day, sometimes eats when hoseok comes over and spends the rest of his free time loitering around seoul under the excuse of ‘searching for inspiration’.

hoseok knows this. but, surprisingly, this time around namjoon’s actually _done_ something – he’s begun working on a song.

> **18:56 namjoon:** it’s fine  
>  **18:56 namjoon:** i’ve actually been busy myself  
>  **18:57 namjoon:** working on some new material

he looks over at hoseok for approval and feels relief wash over him in waves when hoseok nods proudly. a moment later, his phone buzzes again and yoongi’s sent him two rows of impressed emojis, “even he can’t believe it,” hoseok laughs, “the guy doesn’t even know you for two months and he’s already done with you.”

“shut up,” namjoon mutters. he types in a ‘ _hey it’s not so surprising_ ’ and leaves the kitchen to sit in the living room, eyes never leaving his phone.

hoseok takes it as his cue to leave. he says goodbye to namjoon, who barely returns the greeting, but he lets him live this time. hoseok won’t leave, not actually; he doesn’t have anywhere else to go, really, so he makes himself invisible and sits on namjoon’s balcony, the chill autumn wind kissing his skin with a mouth full of teeth.

he doesn’t want to _listen in_ on their conversation, if it could be called one, but namjoon’s thoughts are too loud and too distracting to ignore. hoseok can practically envision the wheels turning in his head as he considers an appropriate response to ‘ _actually it kind of is_ ’.

he doesn’t have to, it seems. yoongi shoots him a message only thirty seconds after his last one, ‘ _and... sorry about last time_ ’.

‘ _what do you mean_ ’ namjoon types back, confused. ‘ _for.. kissing you and stuff’_ comes as a reply and namjoon’s blood runs hot at the remembrance. his head floods with images he’s dreamt of before, images burned into his brain, and hoseok’s fingers begin to itch as namjoon’s arousal pools into him through the bond they share.

‘ _it’s okay_ ’ namjoon writes, slowly, calculating. his next message, _‘i haven’t stopped thinking about it, actually_ ’, gets interrupted by yoongi’s rushed ‘ _it was probably terrible for you i’m sorry_ ’ and hoseok can feel namjoon’s heartbeat quickening almost like it’s his own.

overwhelmed by sudden boldness, namjoon continues, ‘ _and how i’d like to do it again’_. he waits ten seconds, counting down in his head, before typing in, ‘ _soon, hopefully_ ’.

namjoon’s moved so he’s lying on the couch with the entire length of his body, his sock clad feet just reaching the armrest on the opposite side. he wiggles his toes, anxiously awaiting for yoongi’s reply. the bubbles are there, indicating that yoongi is writing a response.

and then, it comes, ‘ _really?_ ’, namjoon takes in a deep breath, ‘ _i haven’t stopped thinking about it either. it felt.. it felt good_ ’.

namjoon shifts in his position, a rush of heat heading straight to his cock at yoongi’s words, and hoseok grinds his teeth in frustration. usually, namjoon’s half-dead emotions are easy to handle, but whenever it comes to yoongi, everything inside of his springs back to life like it’s been electrocuted, so many times more intense than hoseok is used to. ‘ _i liked it a lot_ ’, yoongi continues without waiting for namjoon to reply, nervous as well, ‘ _you are really warm, namjoon_ ’.

‘ _how warm’,_ namjoon writes back before he can stop himself. a mix of excitement and anxiety throws him in a frenzy when yoongi replies, ‘i-want-you-on-top-of-me-naked _warm_ ’. namjoon’s more than positively surprised at the progress in their conversation. ‘ _maybe we should meet up over the weekend and i can make you feel warm agai_ ’ he presses send too quickly, cursing his quivering fingers for making him look like an idiot. _it’s not your inability to type that makes you look like an idiot_ , hoseok thinks, and realizes too late that he should’ve gotten the hell out of there the second namjoon texted yoongi back.

yoongi’s next message is a picture of his bare abdomen, thin fingers teasing the top of his pants, his thumb pushed through the belt loop and lowering the material just a tad bit to reveal the palest sliver of skin namjoon’s ever seen. ‘ _a sneak peek until then_ ’ and a tongue emoji follow afterwards and hoseok decides he’s had quite enough once namjoon’s thoughts go into overdrive, practically overheating.

he leaves just in time to escape the sight of namjoon’s hand being shoved down his sweats, a low, needy groan rumbling deep in his chest cavity, but not even the increasing distance between them can lessen the pure want setting namjoon’s blood on fire.

 

after their, as donghyuk so nicely referred to it, _sexting_ session, things have started to pick up their pace a bit. over the course of following months, namjoon and yoongi’s hangouts become an almost everyday occurrence and seeing namjoon’s lips stretch into a smile every time he thinks about yoongi makes hoseok extremely grateful for donghyuk’s skilled ways of persuasion.

namjoon’s actually, for once, felt excited about working on songs, a sort of an exhilaration pushing him forward to write down lyric upon lyric upon lyric, until he’s filled up a notebook of words describing how wonderful yoongi is. the word _love_ is never directly mentioned, but it’s obvious in the small details namjoon notices about yoongi, how he bites his nails when he’s nervous, about the bags under his eyes that he hides with makeup, about the stories yoongi’s told him when they were alone and too drunk to care about setting boundaries.

the kisses they share are bitter and sweet at the same time, like the mint cigarettes namjoon’s taken a liking to smoking on his walk to yoongi’s place and dark chocolate yoongi smears on his lips before leaning in to peck namjoon on the mouth. as time progresses, they’ve slowly started falling into each other, neither of them aware of the merging of their souls that’s so palpable to hoseok and donghyuk.

“it’s working,” hoseok breathes out. it’s sort of creepy, them standing on the outside of yoongi’s huge balcony and watching their humans wrestle naked on his king sized bed, dirtying the white sheets in the process, “it’s actually working.”

“did you ever doubt me,” donghyuk grins and hoseok desperately wants to bark a sassy “yes,” but he does not dare to look in donghyuk’s direction. the attraction between them rises and falls as their humans unravel each other right before their very eyes. the desire to give in and jump donghyuk then and there becomes harder to control as time passes and namjoon’s chaste kisses down yoongi’s chest morph into nips and licks at the tip of his cock underneath the thin blanket yoongi’s covered with.

“they are so obsessed with their bodies,” he grits out, gripping the railing behind him until his fingers turn white, “instead of appreciating their souls, they appreciate the flesh. it’s all going to rot, anyway.”

“they don’t know that,” donghyuk reminds him, “they don’t know what awaits them once they’ve taken their last breath. let them be.”

and donghyuk is right, painfully so. hoseok would never admit it, but donghyuk has his moments of wisdom, moments when hoseok can’t do much but bite his lip in defeat.

he is more than aware that namjoon _is_ going to die at some point. it’s not relieving at all, thinking about the trial he’ll have to face before he’s granted an entry to heaven, and who knows whether he’ll pass it or not. reminiscing on namjoon’s past deeds, before hoseok had been assigned to him, is never a pleasant thing. sometimes hoseok can’t think of much but of drugged namjoon beating an innocent child to the ground, for absolutely nothing at all, leaving him to bleed to death, face planted into the grass.

donghyuk struggles with the same issue. he’s brought the memories upon himself with his own words, having fallen silent and possibly thinking about all the girls and boys yoongi’s fucked before, broken their hearts and relationships, ruined their lives to the point of no return only to never contact them in any way again.

and again, hoseok has to remind himself, namjoon and yoongi aren’t necessarily bad people. good people do bad things, too, when they’ve been hurt so much they can’t differentiate right from wrong anymore.

but heaven doesn’t forgive and forget so easily.

“they haven’t confessed yet,” hoseok says out loud, breaking the tense silence before it becomes too much to bear, “we have two weeks left. they need to say the words for it to be official.”

“i have an idea,” donghyuk says. he sounds distant, like he’s been broken from a train of unpleasant thought, “but we’ll need alcohol. lots of it.”

“why?” hoseok asks. he doesn’t like when namjoon drinks. a drunk namjoon is similar to a drugged namjoon, a namjoon hoseok hates seeing, hopeless and reckless and aggressive.

“yoongi will never admit to his feelings sober,” donghyuk clarifies. in front of them, yoongi is gasping into namjoon’s mouth, clinging to his naked shoulders desperately as the younger fucks him into the mattress, eyes glazed over but there’s something off in them, “i can feel it so clearly, the denial. he doesn’t want to fall for namjoon,” he heaves a sigh, rubs his temples in frustration, “he doesn’t want to, but he already has. and the denial hurts more than the actual love.”

hoseok can’t help himself; in an attempt to ease the pain cruising donghyuk’s veins, he takes a step closer to kiss him. it doesn’t help at all, but at least it untangles the knots building in his own stomach and they explode all around him like yoongi’s whimpers echoing in namjoon’s ears.

donghyuk kisses him like that, obscured from unwanted viewers by their combined powers, until their humans’ actions come to a halt and gasps and moans turn into steady rises and falls of chest against chest, both of them lost in a separate dream world, but dreaming of each other.

 

sadly, fate works in such a way that it makes things impossible to go as planned.

namjoon is reluctant to go and hoseok can’t offer much to comfort or reassure him. he’s uneasy about the whole ordeal himself, but the deadline is approaching fast and they’re running out of time. he fixes namjoon’s hair – he’s helped him straighten his natural curls with a hair iron, quite possibly the most terrifying human invention ever made – and sweeps his black shirt clean of imaginary dust and tells him it’s going to be okay.

his voice gives out at the last syllable, and namjoon replies with a quiet, “same.”

the club they’re supposed to meet yoongi and donghyuk in is not that far from yoongi’s workplace. hoseok’s memorized the route just in case namjoon needs a walk back home. something feels odd, misplaced, as they stroll towards the club in silence, but it could just be namjoon’s tingling nerves misguiding him.

as many times before, hoseok should’ve just listened to his gut telling him to get the hell out of there on time.

the place is packed with people, some grinding against each other on the dance floor and some downing glasses upon glasses of shots and colorful drinks in one go, preparing themselves for a night they most certainly will not remember. there are hundreds of stories to be told here; about that girl in the corner, texting her best friend to bail her out because a guy wouldn’t stop creeping on her and groping her, but said best friend isn’t responding; about the man in his thirties, too old to frequent a place like this, drowning his sorrows of divorce in drops of tequila dripping from a teenaged girl’s exposed navel; about the boy who forces himself to enjoy the way girls feel around him when he touches them while they’re dancing, but no matter how hard he tries, it will never, ever feel right.

the story hoseok’s so carefully built over the years threatens to collapse. they haven’t even entered the club properly when donghyuk’s in front of him, startling both the angel and his human, with a strict warning, “don’t.”

“what?” hoseok asks, shouts over the loud music blasting from the speakers. it’s a song hoseok can’t recognize, but namjoon is bobbing his head to the beat, so it must be something quality.

“don’t go in there,” donghyuk orders. he looks desperate, maniacal even. his eyes are glassed and his lips are curled into a sneer, like he’s fighting off something he can’t suppress.

“donghyuk. what’s going on?” hoseok asks, momentarily distracted because namjoon isn’t next to him anymore. he can feel him move forward, into the crowd, but that feel is of no use when there are so many souls around them, mixing with namjoon’s and hiding him so that hoseok has to concentrate even harder to sense him.

“stop him,” donghyuk pushes him in the direction namjoon’s disappeared to, “you have to stop him!”

hoseok makes his way through a herd of bodies, too drunk and too high to care to move even an inch unless he forcefully pushes them, but he’s losing namjoon. the only thing he can sense clearly is namjoon’s constant chants of _yoongi, yoongi, where is yoongi hyung_ , and then… silence.

suddenly, hoseok’s head is empty of its usual intruder.

“namjoon!” he shouts, growing frantic, “namjoon! where are you?!”

his vision is clouded by smoke, but when he spots him, everything stills. now, now he can feel it. it’s a mix of every negative emotion at once; disappointment, dread, sadness, fear, anger, hurt, all hurdled together in a seed of evil planting itself deep inside of namjoon’s heart. and beyond him, hoseok sees the reason, too.

it’s yoongi, it’s always yoongi – kissing a girl, the same girl that’s been grinding on the gay boy from before, the fingers of his right hand travelling underneath her barely existent skirt, while the others bury themselves deep into her auburn hair to angle her head for a deeper lip-lock.

there are no words namjoon’s mind forms, just the silence and the heavy emotion that glues hoseok to the ground, making him unable to move or speak or do _anything_ to revert namjoon’s eyes from the scene before him.

just like that, namjoon leaves, when the urge to throw up becomes too much. he turns away just in time to miss yoongi watching him as he pushes the girl away, his expression twisted into one of pain, but it’s too late to run after him and apologize now.

hoseok drops to his knees and there’s no one to catch him. namjoon is gone and yoongi needs donghyuk and the world shatters around him like sharp glass, but in a mass of stories, hoseok’s becomes lost. and just like that, everything falls apart.

 

it’s preposterous to assume that hoseok isn’t as entirely dependent on namjoon as namjoon is on him.

he doesn’t see namjoon at all for the following week and it rips him apart, piece by piece. the more the distance between them grows, the worse namjoon becomes, the more hoseok feels their bond weakening. heaven is calling for him, to come back for reprimanding, but he can’t go. if he goes, that will be the end of it – hoseok knows what namjoon’s doing behind locked doors and shut down blinds. he can’t read namjoon’s thoughts anymore but he hisses in pain whenever namjoon stabs a needle in his forearm, snorts powder in his nostrils instead of oxygen in his lungs and eats pills instead of food.

it’s wrong. it’s so wrong and it never should’ve ended up like this and donghyuk won’t stop apologizing, “it’s not your fault,” hoseok barks at him, too bitter to be genuinely compassionate, “it’s not your fault at all,” before anyone else, hoseok blames himself. namjoon won’t open the door, won’t even acknowledge that he’s alive in there somewhere, and hoseok probably would’ve given up if he couldn’t hear the heartbeat coming from the other side, faint but irrevocably there. it’s a cry for help, because namjoon isn’t meant to go down like _this_. namjoon isn’t meant to go down for a long, long time, and while hoseok might not know how that will play out, he’s certain it’s not like this.

“just let me in namjoon,” he begs, desperate, “i can make this better,” when he meets a flat response, he slides down to the ground and bangs his head on the wooden door, “i always make things better, don’t i?” namjoon agrees, but he can’t find the words to say it out loud.

it’s, inevitably, donghyuk who fixes things, as it seems to be the case too often nowadays. it’s yoongi who has fucked up, too, so it’s only natural for his angel to take the matter into his own hands. hoseok is surprised to see yoongi walk up the rusty stairs and show up on namjoon’s floor, looking just as terrible as anyone who has unnecessarily broken the heart of the one they love because they’re too afraid to face their own feelings.

“hey,” yoongi greets him weakly and hoseok realizes this is the first time they’ve spoken face to face in the last six months. it makes everything seem only a hundred times more real, “he’s in there, right?”

“yeah,” hoseok nods. he gets up to give yoongi space, and because he doesn’t want to be here if and when namjoon opens the door. he’s going to watch from the sidelines, pray that the bond between him and his human doesn’t snap and break. donghyuk is already waiting for him, arms crossed in front of his chest. he’s never seen shin donghyuk look so crestfallen in all the years he’s known him.

“do you think he’s going to fix this?” hoseok asks. he’s afraid to hear the answer.

“he has to,” donghyuk answers, also unsure, “he simply has to.”

they watch yoongi knock twice with no response. when he knocks again, there’s a grunt from the other side, but nothing else.

“namjoon,” yoongi calls for him, “namjoon. are you there?” he rests his forehead against the door, scraping his fingers down their length, “please tell me you’re there.”

another grunt, and then, something wonderful. something that sparkles inside of hoseok, similar to how namjoon used to feel like, and then all three of them hear a meek voice, rough from lack of usage, speak up.

“yeah, i’m here.”

hoseok can’t stop the sigh of relief from escaping his lips. his entire frame sags and revels in the marvelous sensation that namjoon is _okay_. in a bad condition, mentally and physically, but _okay_. he’s breathing. he’s conscious. he’s _talking_.

“namjoon,” yoongi starts again, “i’m sorry. i can’t express with my words how sorry i am.”

there’s a brief moment of silence before namjoon speaks again, “you’re sorry. right.”

“what i did – it’s unforgivable,” he continues, voice threatening to break. hoseok is too anxious to watch, choosing to hide his face in donghyuk’s shoulder as the other angel pets his dark hair. he knows donghyuk can feel it too, the pull that’s impossible to escape, both between themselves and namjoon and yoongi as well, “i can’t excuse my actions in any way but i’ve come here to ask of you to forgive me anyway,” donghyuk mouths the words, _it’s genuine, please believe him_ , against hoseok’s forehead and while hoseok’s never watched any of the dramas namjoon so faithfully follows, he feels very much like he’s a co-star in one right now, “i didn’t want to come clean to myself for the longest time that there’s a part of me that can fall in love again.”

namjoon doesn’t say anything – hoseok isn’t sure if it’s because he wants to hear yoongi’s confession undisturbed or because he physically can’t talk at all from the drugs he’s digested – but he’s still there, he can still feel him, “what i did was bad, but i wasn’t aware of it until i saw you walk away from that club and something inside of me _broke_ ,” maybe it’s his heart, hoseok believes, it’s what happens when soul mates are forced apart, “and i know what it is now. i love you, namjoon, i’m _in love with you_ – i’ve probably been in love with you since the time i saw you on stage and how passionate you were about performing and i don’t want to see all of that go to waste because of something i’d done to you,” yoongi chokes back a sob in the middle of his monologue, sucks his lower lip into his mouth to will the tears away, but they roll down his cheeks anyway, “you don’t have to forgive me but please don’t do this to yourself. i know what you do, you’ve told me what you’ve done before, and you can’t go back to that place again. hoseok needs you healthy, alright?” he laughs dryly, “and i need you too, like a little bit at least.”

“this is so dramatic,” donghyuk whispers and, as bad as the joke is, hoseok has to agree. his pulse is skyrocketing and he’s having trouble breathing, impatiently waiting for namjoon’s reaction.

the silence that follows stretches for what seems like ages, when in reality it’s barely been five minutes. when namjoon speaks up again, it’s too weak to be heard, but there’s rustling on the other side, like a large body is moving around, and then the door unlocks.

namjoon looks nothing short of terrible. his skin is pale, he’s visibly lost weight and he sways on his feet while he walks, but he’s trying to smile, “i haven’t forgiven you, but you’re right about hoseok needing me,” his chapped lips break into a feeble smile, “that brat can’t work a microwave on his own. what human can’t work a microwave? seriously.”

the familiar annoyance that surges through his body is too welcoming for hoseok to be truly mad. donghyuk is happier, too, hugging him closer, and the connection between their humans has already begun it’s healing process; by the time their deadline expires, it should be as good as new. yoongi rushes into namjoon’s fragile arms and kisses him like his life depends on it and nothing has ever felt quite so satisfying as namjoon’s whispered, “i love you too, idiot,” against his lips.

 

“good job, both of you,” seokjin says. he sits at his desk, checking their records over his monocle. hoseok is nervous, incredibly so, while donghyuk stands next to him, overconfident and with a bright grin, “i’m impressed. you managed to pull it off just in time.”

“it was tough, but we made it,” donghyuk agrees. seokjin is writing down something and frowning at two separate pieces of paper, like he can’t decipher something.

or make a decision, maybe.

“alright,” he concludes at last, crossing his fingers in front of him and staring both angels down. his halo floats prominent above his head, almost intimidating, “i’ve made my decision.”

hoseok takes a deep breath and fights the instinct to hold donghyuk’s hand. they’re back to strictly enemies who sometimes kiss because of their humans, not because _they_ personally feel like it of course, and he has to remind himself of that every second that passes.

“donghyuk,” seokjin makes his ultimate conclusion, “congratulations. come forward and sign the paper. you can get your halo in the back room afterwards.”

oh. in a way, it was to be expected. it’s because of donghyuk that yoongi’s even gotten the strength to go to namjoon and apologize, after all. hoseok still feels the pang of disappointment like an itch he can’t scratch all around him. he is asked to leave, not directly because angels _never_ do direct confrontation themselves, but it’s evident in seokjin’s dismissive eyes that he’s no longer welcome in the room. he turns around and power walks outside before donghyuk can say anything.

minutes later, he’s sitting on the rooftop of yoongi’s work building again after a long, long time, because it gives him an impeccable view of the city. sitting relaxed like this always makes him think of how simple yet complicated the human world is, and how they’re not even aware of the beauty it holds.

“hey,” someone nudges his arm with their foot, “what are you doing here angsting all alone?”

“donghyuk?” hoseok asks, craning his neck to look up at him. he looks as breathtaking as ever, in pure white and with sunkissed skin, but one thing stands out among the rest.

there’s no halo on his head.

“i didn’t take it,” he explains, moving to sit next to hoseok, “it didn’t feel right. we worked together, so it’s only fair we get the halo together too.”

“but seokjin is right. you deserve it more than me,” hoseok says, “you’ve done a lot more work.”

“well i’m not the one whose human almost died,” the other angel elaborates, “either way, we’re stuck together forever now. whether we want to or not.”

 “truly,” hoseok throws his head back in an amused laugh, “it’s been a wild ride, but worth it.”

“after namjoon gets better, they’re gonna go at it like rabbits,” donghyuk sighs. the stare he gives hoseok is as suggestive as it goes, “i hope you’re prepared.”

“like you said,” hoseok shrugs, “whether we want to or not,” but his tone is light, teasing almost. donghyuk imitates his position and they remain sitting calmly, their usual comfortable silence stretching between them and their fingers nearly touching, wholly ready to face their oncoming challenges. together.


End file.
